People were shaking my hand after the worship service, like they usually do, “fellowshipping” with one another on their way out. Then, one of my older friends asked me a question that caught me off guard. “What is dementia?” she asked, innocently. I filtered that question through her condition: it has been less a year …
I kept looking over the names listed on the sign-up sheet for our Wednesday night church meal, scratching my head at the apparent mystery: why had at least twice as many people made reservations than normally do? Sure, it was the first meal after the summer break, during which we suspend the mid-week church meal. …
I had almost given the tickets away. They were a gift from a friend, who couldn’t make the game. After I took them, I thought I had an unavoidable conflict. But the week before, I found out I could go. “I’m going to make it after all,” I told my friend. He had given them …